Tales of Cheek: Summer
by Killy-S
Summary: After two seasons away from Redwall Cheek returns home.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

**Yes, yes, I know it isn't summer any more. I did honestly intend to write this during the summer, but y'know how it is. Anyway, here is the last of the Cheek Tales. Although, much like The Doctor rule one is The Killy always lies. I don't know if I'll write more, it might happen, it might not. Don't get your hopes up. **

It was the height of the summer season; the air was filed with the fragrance of a woodland bursting with life. The ancient stones of Redwall Abbey appeared a dusty red against the endless blue sky. Grasshoppers could be heard humming lazily from the sun's warmth and from the trees birds sang contently. It was on such a glorious afternoon that the Abbey was paid a visit.

Matthias the Warrior only by chance happened to be in his gatehouse home when the knock at the gates came. On such a day as this, most abbey beasts were outside enjoying the weather. Even John Churchmouse completed his recording duties under the shade of the orchards, rather than his dusty study. Hearing the knocking the mouse hastened to answer. Unbolting the gate he pulled it inward smiling as the visitors came to light. Slightly older, and markedly tubbier stood none other than Cheek Stag Otter. With the jovial otter was the Skipper's daughter Jocelyn, she appeared much the same, although Matthias had never gotten to know her well. The pair had set out two seasons back determined to see more of the world. As a young beast Cheek had been quite a nuisance, but he was much loved by the entire Abbey.

Matthias tried to hide his joy, and surprise at seeing the otter return. He welcomed them in saying, "Got hungry eh Cheek?"

The jovial otter capped a tattooed paw about the warrior mouse. "Aye, an' thirsty too. Tell those cellar 'ogs and kitchen mice t'bring up the best scoff and October ale. "

Jocelyn slipped in past the two males her shell ornaments clattering as was the tell tale sign of her presence. Matthias couldn't help but notice she appeared rounder about the mid section, and not likely from many a good supper. Her bright skirts ruffled suddenly, and from the layers of multi-coloured fabrics a young kit otter appeared. He was only a little dibbun barely walking on his own. His big brown eyes and chubby features could mean but one thing, he had to be Cheek's. Matthias was both surprised and overjoyed.

"Great seasons, will you look at this little fellow."

The little otter clung to his mother's skirts, nervously watching the mouse before him. Cheek snatched the tiny beast up, balancing him upon one hip. "This here is Streambuck, but most 'ave just taken t'calling him Bucko."

Jocelyn shook her head. "Bucko indeed. Should 'ave 'eard the fights we had about naming the little kit. Oh Cheek wanted Buck this and Bob that, but I kept telling 'im I wasn't having any son of mine saddled with a hare name. "

Cheek shrugged still carrying his young son, a smile as bright as the sunshine upon his face. Matthias led the small otter family towards the main Abbey building, knowing many creatures would be anxious to see them. At first many didn't recognize Cheek. Sam squirrel was instructing his young pupils in how to properly use a quarter staff. He paused from watching the young woodlanders, leaning upon his own staff, and openly stared at the otter. It took him several moments before it dawned on him who this beast had to be.

"Cheek!" he called out, dropping the staff and dashing over to greet his friend.

Carefully setting Streambuck down the otter and squirrel clapped paws about one another, shoving and play wrestling as they had as young beasts.

"Look at you y'old bush tail. Still playing with sticks I see."

"And you, rounder than one of Jube's barrels and as cheeky as ever. Finally back at Redwall. Where did you end up in your travels?" The squirrel asked.

"Ah, those are tales better saved for around a fire in the dead of winter. But for now there is somebeast I have to see. Besides, I think you ought t'get back to your students before someone looses an eye." Chucking he watched as the young woodlanders thwacked at one another with their quarterstaffs.

Rushing back to prevent any injury Sam waved to his friend. "Later then, I do want to hear all about it."

Doing their best to slip away from the many welcoming creatures, Cheek and Jocelyn tried to find the one creature Cheek was most anxious to see. Sister May called out from the infirmary window.

"Hello there." She shouted waving a spotted handkerchief to get their attention. "He's out in the orchard, under the damson trees. "

Thanking the mouse sister they struck out as instructed. The shade of the damson trees was a peaceful shady spot, quiet and tranquil. The fragrant scent of the purple fruits met in harmony with the flowers planted atop a small mound of earth. It was here Basil Stag Hare, the once brave yet eccentric foot fighter rested.

Basil had lived many long seasons, perhaps the only beast to exceed him in age was Constance but badgers did have such vast lifespan. He took his midafternoon rest along the trees base, resting beside the flower garden. A hardwood cane lay at his side, for the past number of seasons he relied on the waking aid. Of course, the hare wouldn't to needing a cane due to age. No, he insisted most adamantly that it was an honourable war wound acting up again. The same excuse was used when ever his back ached, or his hearing faltered, or even when his memory began to slip. Sister May the infirmary keeper was only too happy to indulge the hare. The kindly mouse played along catching every smile and wink the hare passed to her. It had grown to be a game between the two, like dibbuns they pretended as though Basil wasn't nearing the end of his seasons.

Cheek felt strange seeing his adoptive father like this. He had never known Basil as a young beast, he was already well on in seasons upon their meeting. Even after they left the cottage home to move to Redwall, Cheek never dreamed of being without the hare. Now after being away two whole seasons, and the many changes that had entered his life in that span of time, he began to realize that his beloved Basil would not be there forever.

Unsure if he should wake the elderly hare, Cheek paced forward. To his surprise Basil stirred and reached for his cane. Springing into wakefulness he swung the stick out nearly smacking Cheek on the hindpaw.

"Have at ye' y'rotten young rascals. If I told y'once I've told y'bounders a thousand binking times…" He blinked several times his voice trailing off as he spied the beast before him. "My, my, got hungry did we laddie buck? Knew you would be bound back this way once the scoff ran out. Didn't think it would take y'so long. Humph, hardly a letter or blinking message since your cheeky hide lollopped out these gates. Tummscoff writes, true as the old war wound in me knee acts up in damp weather I'm bound t'get at least one note a season from the chap. Good sort Tummscoff, always shows proper respects and appreciation. Y'could learn a lot from that fellow." Basil spoke gruffly wagging a paw at his once young charge.

Cheek stood paws clasped behind his back as Basil lectured him. He knew the hare wasn't really cross. On the contrary, he was quite pleased to see the otter again. When Basil had finished, he helped him to his paws. Groaning somewhat Basil slowly waked alongside his son, leaning heavily on the cane.

"Great seasons o'salt, are those tattoos I see." He shook his gray head. "Good thing y'came back when y'did, much longer and you're liable to become a bally pirate." He pulled out a monocle from his breast pocket and peered closely at the blue-green markings along Cheek's forepaws. He narrowed his eyes at Jocelyn. "I'll take this t'be your doing marm." As a strict military beast, Basil didn't really approve of tattoos and pierced ears.

Cheek held out his paws and allowed Basil to fully inspect the intricate designs he obtained through his travels. Many river and sea otters carried tattoos these marked them as members of particular tribes, or commemorated deeds or events in their lives. Cheek decided to embrace this aspect of his culture and chose his designs carefully. Along with the intricate markings that showed he was a Mossflower otter, he designed two very special tattoos. The first an otter's sling to remind him of his childhood following the Redwall warriors to free the child slaves from Slagar. The second was a winding design of knots and bends made to appear as otter and hare. Basil smiled slightly catching sight of this, but made no remark to indicate his approval.

"Ole Tum may write Basil. But I bring something better." Cheek winked broadly. Guiding his aged father towards a bench he made sure Basil sat down, and then presented him with his grandson. As Cheek had hoped, Basil was overjoyed.

Little Streambuck didn't really know what to make of the old hare. He was still very nervous around strange beasts, but the hare seemed friendly enough to see him. Clinging to his father, he was urged over to the hare. Basil sat with outstretched paws, his eyes misting with absolute joy.

"Well now, there's a plump and happy looking chap. Come over to y'grandpa let me get a good look at ye."

Slowly the young beast relinquished his grip on his father and went to the hare. Up in Basil's arms he peered at the elder with those big brown eyes. Streambuck had never seen a hare before, and what fully beasts they were to the young otter. His tiny webbed paws reached out and grabbed Basil's long ears, giggling in fits when the hare tried to wriggle them out of the toddler's grip. Finally freeing his ears he remarked. "Easy to tell whose young'un he is. Imagine that, Cheek Stag Otter, grown up, married and with a family of his own. I tell you m'boy I didn't think I'd ever see the day."

Jocelyn patted her belly smiling. "An' there's more where that once came from." To this news Basil was all the more over joyed. Cheek however shifted nervously on his paws.

"Er… not exactly married." He spoke from the side of his mouth, expecting to get an earful from his father.

Instead Basil waved a paw, to show it didn't bother him. "Oh, neither here nor there dontcha know. I c'n tell you both seem most happy. Stay t'gether long enough its all the same bally thing anyway." He winked and contently bounced his tiny grandson upon his knee.


	2. Chapter 2

Word of Cheek's return soon spread like wildfire through Redwall. It didn't take long for Joslyn to be accosted by Abbey Sisters and other female creatures wanting to see the young otter. The Skipper's daughter proudly showed off her son to any who approached her. In honour of the three arrivals old Abbot Alf announced that an impromptu evening feast would be held. While Cheek was pleased to again sit at a Redwall feasting table, he was troubled to hear that both afternoon tea and supper were to be canceled in order to give the cooks time to prepare.

With Joslyn otherwise occupied, and Basil departing for a pre-feast nap, Cheek decided to seek out a little peace and quiet. He climbed the stairs leading towards the infirmary; nobeast would be looking for him up here. Slinking in through the door he nearly banged right into Sister May, who was busy hanging herbs to dry.

"Whoa, sorry Sister May, didn't see y'there." The otter tugged an ear in greeting, cautiously walking around the infirmary keeper.

The mouse Sister smiled and finished her task. "It is good to see you again Cheek." She spoke in her typical cheerful tone, never too overrun with emotion, although Cheek could tell she was dearly pleased he had returned. "Basil has done little else but talk about you since you left."

At this the otter felt his heart grow heavy with regret. Perhaps he shouldn't have left with Joslyn, maybe his place had been at Redwall. Seeing the look of distress on Cheek's face, the kind mouse was quick to put his mind at ease.

"Your father loves you more than any other creature, and he is proud that you went roving when you did. All I heard was how grown you had become, and how the travels would make you a wiser beast. "

"How is he?" Cheek asked the question that had played heavily on his mind.

"He is old, Cheek." Sister May responded, she returned to hanging her drying herbs saying "Last winter he took with pneumonia. I thought we would lose him for sure. Then, to the surprise of everybeast he turns right around. I shouldn't say he made a full recovery of course, but, how did that old hare put it? Oh yes, something about blood and vinegar. "

The otter smiled, helping the mouse collect the already dried ingredients.

"He's been waiting on you I think." Seeing the look of sadness come upon Cheek once more she added "Do not be sad my dear, Basil has lives a long and happy life. He knows as well as anybeast that the time to go comes for all of us. So many of our elders have passed these past few seasons; Ambrose Spike, Mr. Fieldmouse, and John Churchmouse just to name a few. Now that you are back, I think he sees that he's leaving you in good paws."

Cheek tried to muster up a smile. Her words were true, but heavy on the otter. He knew Basil was an older beast when he became his guardian, but he never really thought about losing him.

Letting the infirmary keeper get back to her work, he roamed the Abbey hallway running a paw over the sandstone brick works. He recalled his younger seasons, not so long ago. Days when he and the other abbey youth would cause terror, running through the cloisters, pinching treats from the kitchen, and generally making nuisances of themselves. It was a wonder the Brothers and Sisters of Redwall even permitted him to stay there for schooling. For all the trouble he caused, Basil was always warm and kind. Even when he lost his temper and shouted till his cheeks puffed up and his ears went ridged. It was with that kindness, coupled with seasons of military discipline that Basil had been able to mould Cheek from a troublesome orphan to the praised member of Redwall society.

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While nobeast at Redwall would ever turn down a Redwall feast, the otter didn't really think he deserved one hosted in honour of his return. Joslyn could only laugh at his modesty. "Look at it this way. Ain't for you 'tis for the little 'un."

This cheered Cheek up immensely, a feast for his young kit that he could accept without any pangs of embarrassment. Old Abbot Alf was happy to play along with the otter's new found sense of humility. Such a trait was not known to be a virtue of otters or hares, perhaps some of abbey life had rubbed off on him after all. Redwallers one and all were overjoyed to lavish affections on the young creature. Streambuck came to like these Redwallers, and their ways. Of course he was too small to vocalize his opinions, or fully comprehend the world around him. In his young dibbun ways he knew these to be good beasts. Gaining courage, he would stray from his mother, allowing himself to be coddled and adored by anybeast who happened upon him.

Sister Pansy and her assistants had been busy at work preparing for the feast. A large feasting table was moved out to the lawn. The weather was far too pleasant to dine in Cavern Hole. The Abbey dibbuns fashioned barkcloth lanterns under the direction of their school teacher Tess. Foremole-in-training Bungo dug a large roasting pit for the fish Matthias and Mattimeo landed for the event.

Mice and other woodlanders darted this way and that from the kitchen to the lawn, bringing food and drink to the festive table. Basil on one of the long benches, a cushion was brought out to make him more comfortable. His otter son stayed close to his side, watching the food being laid out before them.

"Move that trifle a smidge closer, there's a good lad." The old hare requested.

Cheek was quick to comply, grinning as further requests were made. " An' that mushroom and cheese pasty, rather fond of those dontcha know. Now then, laddie buck fill me tankard up with some of that cool October Ale. 'tis the stuff brewed by Jube Stump. That spiky scoundrel tells me he can brew ales as well if not better than Ambrose Spike. Absolute tosh I say wot wot."

Cheek poured his father up a tankard of the amber coloured ale. The hare took it in his aged paw holding it up to his nose and smelling it before taking a long dram. Smacking his lips he closed his eyes, savouring the flavour critically. "Seems the blighter can brew after all." He said flatly then wasted no time breaking into the pasty before him.

Nobeast really seemed to mind that Basil had started before the Abbot said grace. In his late seasons the hare had become somewhat more peculiar, although none of the Redwallers believed this could be possible.

Once everybeast assembled the Abbot stood up from his place at the head of the table. Politely ignoring that Basil was face and eyes into plum and pear pudding he said the grace.

"Berries, fruits, tuber and vine.

Friends who gather through damp and shine

Savory herb, and honey sweet

Welcome one and all to eat."

There was a resounding _Amen _from those assembled, and everybeast tucked into the fare at will. Few rules dictated how a beast could feast at Redwall. Hot was as good as cold, sweet as good as savory. No strict order of main course or desert was given. Cheek, not being a creature to shy away from food happily accepted anything that came within his paw.

Piping hot bowls of shrimp n' hotroot soup had been specially prepared for the returning otters. Joslyn sat beside Cheek; young Streambuck nestled on her lap. Careful not to spill a drop she helped to feed her young son great spoonfuls of the spicy meal. Sam squirrel watched on, with a look that appeared a cross of horror and amazement.

"Isn't that a bit hot for the little tyke." He asked, concerned for young Streambuck.

Laughing the otter shook her head. "Not at all Sam. 'tis good for the little 'un."

Not one to argue with otter logic, he went back to his white cheese and nutbread loaf.

Basil chewed away at a hearty portion of grilled leeks. "Could never abide the spicy foods." He spoke through mouthfuls. "Burns the tongue and detracts from the rest of the scoff." Taking a slice of bread from a passing kitchen server he buttered it and promptly scoffed it down. Within minutes he was sneezing uncontrollably. "I say, wot's in this." He gasped between sneezes.

The young kitchen mouse bowed a quick curtsy. "It is Sister Pansy's thyme and fennel bread Mr. Hare."

Basil of course was allergic to thyme; it always caused him to get a stuffy nose whenever he encountered the stuff. Sneezing some more, Cheek filled a beaker of cool water passing it to his father.

"Here drink this down, it will help."

The old hare did as he was bid. Then, blew his nose with a spotted handkerchief. Holding up the beaker he tutted. "Couldn't find any more of Jube's October Ale, eh, young thingamy?"

The evening wore on with singing and dancing, and lots and lots of food. Little Streambuck crawled into his father's lap, sucking on a sweet biscuit contently. His once clean tunic was now spattered with jam, pudding, and gravy. Despite his mother's efforts the little imp had gotten into just about everything. "So much like his father." Joslyn was heard to say, on more than one occasion. She didn't truly mind. Clothes could always be washed, and a young otter could always be forgiven such things. This was the way of Redwallers.


End file.
